Has Anyone Else Been Called an "Alien" in Roswell for More Reasons Than One?
The desert sky stretched endlessly above me as I sat on the hood of my car at the UFO Museum parking lot, holding hands with Ellie beneath a tapestry of stars. We weren't hiding exactly, but in small-town Roswell, two women in love still turned more heads than the alien merchandise.
Being Queer in UFO Country
When I moved to Roswell last year, I expected alien jokes. What I didn't expect was the strange duality of living in a town that capitalizes on "the other" while sometimes struggling to embrace actual human diversity. The first time someone called me an "alien," they weren't referring to extraterrestrials.
- Finding queer-friendly coffee shops became my personal mission
- Meeting other LGBTQ+ folks meant driving to Albuquerque initially
- Dating apps showed exactly three prospects within 50 miles
Creating Our Own Space
The hardest part wasn't the occasional side-eye; it was the isolation. Making queer friends here meant actively creating the community I needed rather than finding an existing one.
After months of feeling alone, I started a tiny meetup at Stellar Coffee. First week: just me and my laptop. Second week: an older gay man stopped by. By month three, we had eight regulars spanning the beautiful spectrum of identity.
You Are Not Alone in the Desert
If you're feeling like the only queer in Roswell—you're not. We're scattered like stars across this town, sometimes dim to protect ourselves, sometimes shining brightly.
What's your experience being LGBTQ+ in a small town? Has Roswell's fascination with "aliens" ever felt ironic to you too? Share below and let's build our constellation stronger.